Black Is Back (Quentin Black Mystery #4) (31 page)

Honestly though, what she’d seen on Miri bothered her more.

Miri had looked at him like...

Well, like she didn’t expect him to stick around, for one. Miri had been looking at Black like she expected him to rip out her heart and stomp on it one day soon... like she was just waiting for that day to happen and had resigned herself to it.

Angel didn’t like that much.

She trusted her friend’s instincts too, which made her like it even less.

She glanced out into the living room this time long enough to see that the two of them were on the pull-out couch bed, and more or less covered. Black’s upper body still was bare and both of them were clearly naked under the blankets that covered them to about waist-height, but he had his arms wrapped around Miri where he cradled her against his chest.

As she studied the deep contentment reflected in his inhumanly perfect features, Angel found herself relaxing a little.

Maybe Miri was just paranoid.

Black didn’t look like a man who was going anywhere.

Even so, Angel found herself thinking maybe she should test that theory.

She was still thinking about that as she retreated back to the master bedroom and her bathroom to take a shower.

WHEN ANGEL RETURNED to her living room the next time, the shower was running in her guest bathroom and the bed had been folded back into a couch. The sheets had been left in a pile inside her laundry room––Angel could see them right inside the door, just across from the guest bathroom that stood in an alcove not far from the front door.

She wondered if they were showering together, then decided that was none of her business either. Walking into the kitchen with a sigh, she stopped short when she found herself facing that same, brightly-colored, winged dragon tattoo.

Black glanced over his shoulder, giving her a faint smile.

His face was bruised, like he’d been in a fight. She hadn’t seen it before because he’d been lying on the side sporting the worst of it and Miri’s head blocked the swollen jaw from view.

Angel whistled, walking closer to where he was.

“You owe someone money, Black?” she drawled sweetly.

His smile slid into a broader grin.

When he smiled like that, his whole face changed. Looking him over, shirtless, wearing nothing but black pants and those tattoos and that smile, she shook her head in spite of herself.

Damn, he really was a good-looking man.

Unfortunately, like most good-looking men, he definitely knew it.

The smile left his lips, turning into a harder expression. He rolled his eyes at her a little then and held up the coffee pot.
 

“You want some, right?” he grunted. “I don’t have to ask?”

Angel laughed. “Are you blushing, Black?”

He gave her another look, lifting an eyebrow, and Angel made up her mind, sauntering over to him with that smile still teasing her lips. Without hesitating, she smacked him on the ass with her palm. He jumped violently, looking at her in open shock.

“Nothing like waking up with a fine piece of man-ass in my kitchen,” she said, smiling up at him. “...Especially when it’s half-naked like this.”

She saw Black’s eyes dart to the door to the other room, right before he scowled at her.

“Don’t do that again,” he growled, his voice low.

She smiled, seeing the genuine anger in his eyes.

He studied her face for a minute more, then exhaled, shaking his head. “Jesus. You might be a good friend, but you’re risking your life right now. Keep your fucking hands off me, Angel. I mean it. Whatever your reasons.”

“Miri doesn’t trust you,” she said, blunt. “I want to know why, Black.”

His jaw hardened. He continued to spoon coffee grounds onto the paper filter, not looking up as he measured out each one with his eyes. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“You going to cheat on her?” Angel said, pressing the point.

“No,” he growled, giving her an angry look.

“Have
you cheated on her, Black?” Angel said, her voice more pointed.

“No, goddamn it!” Glowering at her openly that time, he finished with the grounds and rotated the plastic filter back into place on the drip coffeemaker. Shoving the clean coffee pot onto the round burner under the filter, he turned the machine on with a flick of his thumb. Only then did he glance her way, giving her a longer stare as he backed away from the counter.

He looked like he wanted to say something, and watching the emotions glimmer across the planes of his face, Angel wondered what it was.

“What?” she said finally.

“You need to get used to me,” he growled, jabbing a finger on the counter. “...In her life. You and Nick both. You need to get
used
to me, goddamn it. Whether you approve of me or not.”

Angel blinked up at him in surprise.

“And why is that?” she said, folding her arms.

“Why do you think?” he snapped. “You’re her friends. I respect that. I don’t want to push either of you out of the way. But you need to get
used
to me...”

“Do we, now?” she said drily. Still, she was amused for some reason. Maybe just by the genuineness of the frustration she could see in his expression. “And what about Miri? Does she need to just ‘get used to you’ too, Black?”

“Yes,” he snapped, not missing a beat. “But let
me
handle that, goddamn it. I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to trust
her.”

Turning over his words, Angel nodded slowly.

“Okay,” she said after another pause. “Fair enough.”

She was still watching his face when he turned away from her again, muttering under his breath. He looked like he wanted to say something else when a voice rose suddenly from the entrance to the kitchen. When it did, Black exhaled, stepping back from Angel even more, so that at least three or four yards of empty space stood between them.

He practically had his back to the wall when he stopped, which might have been funny, too, under different circumstances.

“What’s going on?” Miri said. Her eyes and head turned, looking from one end of that empty space to the other warily. “What’s happening between you two?”

“Your friend thinks I’m an asshole,” Black snapped.

Angel burst out in a laugh, in spite of herself.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t, actually. I
do
think he’s paranoid and completely wound up right now, doc. Kinda wondering what you did to him last night.” She quirked an eyebrow at Black. “Kinda wondering about that black eye, too.”

Miri was still looking between them, as if trying to decide how to react to whatever she could feel going on between them.

“Can I tell them?” Black blurted, speaking only to Miri now. His voice came out harsher. “Her and Nick. Are you going to let me fucking
tell
them, doc? Or do you want to tell them yourself? Preferably when I’m not around so you can
frame
it appropriately?” His sculpted mouth twisted into a deeper scowl. “...The gods know, you wouldn’t want them to think you let it happen
willingly.
Would you, Miri?”

Miriam didn’t answer.

Angel saw her frown though, staring up at Black with a mixture of disbelief and warning in her light hazel eyes. Those eyes looked different to Angel now. Something about them had changed in the last few weeks. She tried to decide what that something was.

Whatever it was, it was pretty clear Miri wanted him to shut up.

After a few seconds of silence where they might have been talking to one another in that other way of theirs, Black’s scowl deepened.

“Whatever,” he growled. “Do whatever you want, doc. You always do.”

Without another word, he stalked out of the kitchen.

His strides were long, feral, cat-like, gliding with that animal grace.

A few seconds later, Angel heard the shower start up again in the guest bathroom. She glanced at Miri cautiously, right around the time the coffee pot let out its first puff of steam, a small stream of dark liquid trickling down into the bottom of the glass pot. Seconds later, the smell of brewing coffee hit the room.

“You wanna tell me what he’s talking about, doc?” Angel said finally.

Miri looked up, her face expressionless.

“No,” she said, her voice soft.

Then, while Angel still cautiously watched those light hazel eyes, Dr. Miriam Fox blushed from the roots of her dark hair all the way down her neck, turning bright crimson.

NICK CALLED, BEFORE Black got out of the shower.

Honestly, I was almost glad of the distraction.

I could feel Black pulling on me, even when he showered.

I also felt him masturbate while he was in there, which was one of the more difficult things I’ve ever had to act normal through––especially considering I was sitting at Angel’s kitchen table while he did it, drinking coffee with her while she grilled me about Black.

He was definitely thinking about me when he came.

I slid my finger across the front of my phone as soon as I saw Nick’s name flash on my phone’s screen. I didn’t wait, but put it directly to my ear.

“What happened?” I asked at once. “Is there another victim?”

There was a silence. Then Nick exhaled audibly.

“No. Not exactly... but you’d better come down here.”

“Where are you?”

“Stow Lake,” he said. “Right by the paddle boat place. You remember how to get to the boathouse? Take JFK to the main entrance... you can’t miss us. We’ve got the whole area cordoned off.” He paused. “Is Black back yet? In San Francisco, I mean? I got a weird call from him yesterday, telling me to put a car on you, that you were in danger...”

I bit my lip, but fought my reaction out of my voice. “He’s back.”

“Where? He’s not answering his phone.”

“He’s here actually,” I said, glancing at Angel. “With me... at Angel’s. Do you want me to have him call you? He’s in the shower right now.”

“Yeah. You’d better.” He paused again. “Miri. What the fuck happened? He sounded like he was having a panic attack... then he calls me back twenty minutes later and tells me everything’s fine, and that I shouldn’t say anything to you since he’s coming back anyway. He also told me not to worry about the car. It was a voicemail so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him about any of it, just some back-to-back messages where he sounded like a lunatic and then comes back with this ‘false alarm’ routine.” Nick paused, his voice grudging. “He doesn’t seem like the type to freak out over nothing. Did something happen?”